Rustle.
In the deserted forest, a tall silhouette fell with the sound of stepping on fallen leaves. If a hunter had seen it, they might have mistaken the shadow, which emerged from the trees as if a large mountain beast, for a creature. However, standing there was not a beast but a man with disheveled black hair. He wore neither the king’s cloak he used to drape around himself nor any adornments on his head or body. The man, dressed in a dark and simple manner like a traveler, had a pale complexion noticeable even in the dawn light.
As the man emerged from the bushes, he touched his forehead as if sensing fatigue for the first time. His narrow shoulders shuddered momentarily, shaking up and down.
“Hoo….”
As he wiped away what had trickled down his chin with the back of his hand, fresh red blood emerged vigorously. Duke Gezell Jivendad hastily wiped it away with his sleeve and took a moment to catch his breath. In reality, there was no time for a brief rest, but the momentary dizziness was a result of the relief of reaching his destination.
If he had come by conventional means, it would have taken at least a week, even with the use of magic. There was no time to spare for simple movement. The permit was obtained merely as a precaution for inconvenient situations and to secure the Emperor’s permission externally. Gezell had no intention of returning by the same route he took when he departed.
He was not far from Pheraira, a location near Cornia. In other words, he had returned from the southern end of the continent to the north. Gezell had depleted all the magical power at his disposal as quickly as possible to return, and even then, he reluctantly relied on the power of dark magic. The rewards were not exceptionally great, but the burden on his body was considerable, given the accumulated strain.
Thus, it took two days to arrive here. Despite significantly shortening the travel time, there was no more room for rest. Gezell walked the remaining forest path, where the dense woods made it challenging to distinguish the surroundings even in the morning.
The sound of rushing water became closer. When Gezell stopped, a sheer cliff lay before him.
“Oh, lord of the otherworld, please help me.”
Gezell murmured in a low voice, as if praying, while quickly drawing a magical circle with his hand. A complex pattern, shining silver, emerged in the air against the backdrop of the blue forest and river. He then began reciting an incantation in a language comprehensible only to wizards.
Summoning spells to evoke the existence of the otherworld were collectively referred to as summoning spells, but within summoning magic, there were various classifications. The otherworldly spatial construction magic used to conceal Rensley was something unheard of and unseen. However, Gezell, as a member of the Aldrant royal family, was not entirely surprised. The summoning spells of the Aldrant dynasty, passed down through generations, were not easily decipherable by other magicians on the continent.
Even within Aldrant, few knew about the identity of this summoning magic, and those who did had exchanged their secrets and lives through loyalty and sworn oaths. The magic of the northern royal family originated from an unknown combination that could not be precisely traced back, starting long ago, and had been passed down to the present day.
While people commonly referred to it as a summoning spell for ease of understanding, what Gezell called forth was closer to a deity than a demon. It housed a demon from the otherworld in a material form, precisely within the summoner’s body, and manifested it when needed.
Controlling the demon was not easy, and the process of melding with creatures from the otherworld into the human body was equally challenging. The sensation of the entire body’s bones and muscles being newly assembled and strengthened in a fleeting moment was something only those who experienced it could understand. Although Gezell had learned to endure the pain, some of those chosen as kings had been unable to withstand the agony of transformation, ultimately failing to fulfill their roles.
Usually, the summons that magicians could evoke were much more ordinary demons involved in human affairs, lower-level creatures that could be employed for various tasks. Beings closer to gods, more powerful and with higher intelligence than humans, were not easily swayed by human spells or calls. Even if successfully summoned, it took a considerable amount of magical power and the talent of the sorcerer. Furthermore, controlling them after they were drawn required an equal amount of strength. Summoning, in various aspects, was a high-level magic.
‘Not a mere demon. I might not succeed.’
Rensley had visited the mysterious ‘King of the Forest,’ and it was definitely not a lower-level demon. It understood the human language, possessed dominion over the otherworldly realm he controlled, seemed to have descendants, and exhibited the ability to foresee the future.
If that’s the case, it was a divine being, and a highly elevated one at that. Whether it would respond to his summons depended entirely on its will. The silvery light along the magic circle intensified, and Gezell’s voice quickened. Cold sweat appeared on his face as he closed his eyes and chanted the spell in a low voice. Performing summoning magic in his exhausted state was nearly impossible for an ordinary wizard.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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He stood still for a moment before raising his head. Nevertheless, wasn’t the situation somewhat better than it was then? He knew who was responsible, and his fiancé was not dead. It was better than the time when he frantically searched the riverbed for a body, swinging between hope and despair.
His pumpkin-colored eyes stared more clearly ahead. He started drawing the magic circle again and began reciting the incantation. The silvery magic circle repeatedly appeared and disappeared, and Gezell’s voice, chanting the spell, gradually became hoarse. Without realizing how many times he had been reciting the spell, Gezell slowly stopped speaking.
He immediately didn’t proceed to the next invocation but looked down again at the cliff below. The sound of rushing water was so intense that it made his ears ache, except for the occasional noise of the wind or rustling leaves.
“Cursed!”
A profanity, never before uttered by the lone king, burst out of his mouth.
Gezell raised his head abruptly and quickly began chanting a new spell. In the dark forest, his eyes, gleaming with golden light, stood out conspicuously.
Swinging his hand with the tendons starting to tense, he chanted the spell. Along with a rumbling sound as if the ground was shaking, the entire forest shook. The wind roared between the trees, and like autumn leaves, the fresh leaves that had sprouted in the spring fell to the ground.
With each change in Gezell’s incantation, the scene created by the magic also changed. Sometimes, the entire forest shook, and whirlpools formed in the river below the cliff, only to disappear. Lightning flashed in the dry sky, accompanied by thunder, and on the other side of the cliff, trees unseen were cut down by an invisible blade, falling onto the ground with a thud.
However, despite shaking the forest, the river, and the sky, the one thing he desired did not appear. The wolves seemed oblivious to Gezell’s summoning, and the invisible gate that Rensley had passed through remained concealed from Gezell.
Anger bred impulse, and impulse nearly compelled the power of the summoned demon dormant within Gezell to emerge regardless of will. Gezell growled like a beast, sharpening his resolve.
“If you liked him so much, wouldn’t it be alright to help, even just once…?”
In the disarrayed forest, Gezell questioned himself to maintain composure.
“…What if the summoning fails…”
Whether the probability was high or low, this was the only place to rely on. To open and penetrate the otherworldly space that could not be seen by human power, the power of one who could control that space was necessary. The wolf Rensley encountered was undoubtedly a capable demon in that regard. For him, it might not be a difficult task.
Rensley had received a proposal from the wolf to live together in its domain. Humans who are cherished enough for a god to want them by their side are extremely rare, as if it were a tale or a legend. It wouldn’t be surprising if Rensley’s beauty, innocence, and lovability had shaken the heart of the demon. Gezell wasn’t surprised by that.
With his head bowed, Gezell looked up at the sky. By now, it was more like morning than dawn. A decision was needed.
Should he give up now and head to Roudken? There, Gezell led a group of wizards. Although no one was considered superior to him among them, discussing with royal palace wizards, including Larcof, might reveal a solution.
If it was about magical research and study, Gezell boasted that he was no less than anyone on the continent. However, there must be information that he had missed. Who knows if the records left by the mage who had slipped away might contain information about constructing otherworldly spaces. If he found clues, it might be possible to find a solution to counter Cornia’s magic.
Or there was always the option of resorting to force. Provoke the Emperor, raise the Aldrant army, and overthrow the King of Cornia. If evidence or justification were needed, there were ways to create them. At this point, there was no reason not to achieve victory.
“…”
His mind was busy coming up with various methods, but the emptiness inside him couldn’t have been more profound. Gezell, who had been raising his head, slowly looked down.
If he devoted time, he could try numerous methods, as he had done in his research so far, and eventually find an answer. There was a possibility of winning by engaging in direct combat. Such means were something anyone could think of. However, he couldn’t guarantee the safety of the hostage.
When he discovered the solution to this conundrum, he couldn’t predict what would happen to Rensley Maelrosen or whether he could retrieve him safely.
The vast ocean of despair, like being isolated, felt unfamiliar. Looking down at the table, which was fixedly staring at the emptiness, below the face that had become rigid, moisture gathered in the transparent eyes beneath the golden irises. In the even features, the hastily formed moisture dripped onto the ground.
“What…?”
Puzzled, he hastily wiped his face with the palm of his hand. It was an absurd tear.
During most of his youth, when his father, who had been confined to the tower for most of his life, finally breathed his last, when his step-uncle, who had cared for him more like a father than his own, succeeded, and when he faced the bodies of people whose lives were taken by monsters, among them, he saw the corpses mixed with those of his servants.
The circumstances were different each time, but it was always sorrowful. However, he never shed tears. Originally not prone to tears, he had been taught for a long time that a king should not cry. Gezell was not one to cry at becoming a king.
There were times when he was gripped by anxiety that Rensley Maelrosen might have died. Why? Why was the situation now more desperate than death?
There was no situation more desperate than death in this world. Gezell organized the answers coming to his mind while staring at the flowing river.
Unlike the last time, Rensley didn’t hide himself by his own will this time.
He left on his own accord, so he might be enjoying himself somewhere. With the thought that he might be going through some hardship at this very moment, Gezell didn’t want to imagine it. And probably, because now he loved more than before…
He raised his gaze. Between the cliffs, the vast river spread out, and other than the wide river, there was nothing in the empty space before him. Gezell blankly stared into the air, gradually widening his eyes. The story of Rensley, who had walked through the air without a path or bridge, arriving at the wolf’s forest, came to mind.
“…If it becomes a myth passed down through stories, the progenitor of the Aldrant royal family obtained his current power by throwing himself into a spring created by lightning.”
“Is that so? If you want to borrow power from a god, you need an appropriate price and determination…”
Gezell, murmuring faintly, moved slowly. The space between the steep cliffs, where he had walked on air, lost its free space between the cliff edge and his feet. Small stones that had clung to the soles of his feet fell into the abyss with a tumbling sound.
The moistness in the eyes, looking down at the swiftly flowing currents, disappeared as it followed the calmed thoughts in his mind. Unlike when he thought of Rensley, this time he calmly questioned himself.
Is this truly the most appropriate choice? If, by any chance, this method fails, how will Rensley’s situation be resolved?
If the king disappears, what will happen to Aldrant in the future? What about the continent’s balance?
Ah, fortunately, Aldrant has Frida. Just as his step-uncle guided Aldrant somehow when his father went mad. If he were to face death, the power of the guardian would also be passed on to someone else, continuing the task that was Gezell’s duty.
…Then, perhaps, is Gezell Jivendad already not in his right mind? Can a person change so rapidly in such a short time? After losing his mother, he wanted to ask his father, who had gone mad after losing her, if he could meet him again.
Organizing the overwhelming thoughts, Gezell drew the dagger he had at his waist. Although Aldrant had Frida, the one who could save Rensley Maelrosen now was Gezell alone. As the conclusion became clear in his mind, he drew his palm without hesitation with the blade.
Blood spurted quickly through the torn skin, and Gezell, drawing a magic circle above it, memorized a completely different spell than before. A dark, sticky, irregular smoke-like substance rose around Gezell, and gradually, like sinking into the ground, it disappeared. The blood that had flowed a moment ago also disappeared, leaving only black burn marks on his hand, which, too, gradually vanished as if seeping into the skin.
After completing all preparations, Gezell looked down at the river beneath him with a composed expression.
“If a sacrifice is needed, so be it.”
Closing his eyes and taking a step forward at the edge of the cliff, his task was done.
Gezell Jivendad does not die like this.
Even now, he could have temporarily stopped the fall if he wanted, or he could have walked above the water instead of sinking below. Even if he wanted to die, the demon inside Gezell’s body would hinder the extinguishing of that life. If a magician of Gezell’s caliber fell from a cliff and died, there would be no sign left other than suicide.
However, he did nothing. Watching the landscape receding high above, feeling the terrifying cold wind swiftly brushing past his entire body, and simply letting go of the thunderous sound as the air split. The long hair swept away by the wind made a sound like branches shaking.
It was a strange sensation. Although the fall happened in an instant, for the person falling, it felt like an extremely long time.
With a splash, a large body pierced the surface of the water. The impact followed as if hitting a rock rather than water.
Under the cold and swift water, Gezell quickly sank. Now completely morning, the pale sunlight began to shine over the surface.
“If you’ve forgotten, when you visited for vacation, I promised to teach you how to swim. Since you’re skilled in swordsmanship and martial arts, you’ll quickly learn swimming too.”
The second reason for immersing himself in the flowing river may turn out to be something like this. Even now, the image he conjured up, from the sunny smile to the lively voice, might be another sign of his madness.
The adult sunlight quickly moved away. Submerged in the endless deep water, Gezell exhaled his last breath, which he hadn’t released yet. Foam formed, and a rapid sense of suffocation followed. Gezell closed his eyes by himself. Both vision and soon the mind became pitch-black.
Thank you!
This man going through it!! But you can’t die ur husband needs you!!😨